


The one about the Priest and the Chorist

by Trash



Series: Thirty Days [7]
Category: AFI
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, M/M, PWP, but with a little plot, cosplay kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-19 00:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1447801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smith has a costume party, and Davey is in charge of his and Adam's costumes [Advey]</p>
            </blockquote>





	The one about the Priest and the Chorist

**Author's Note:**

> 30 Day OTP Challenge prompt 7 - cosplaying.

Smith's party has been written on the calendar in the kitchen for over a month. Davey rarely plans anything this far in advance, likes to decline invitations at the last minute for the strangest reasons, but this is something he seems to be genuinely looking forward to. 

"You're not gonna bail at the last minute, are you?" Adam asks the night before. 

Davey looks up at him, pressing his chin into Adam's ribs. His hair is a sweat-damp mess of sex-tats and he has a hickey blooming on his neck. "Why would I do that?"

Adam laughs and pushes a stray lock of hair from Davey's head. "Because you always do? All I'm saying is, if you don't wanna go that's cool. But tell me now, so if Smith asks I can get in early with an excuse."

But no. Davey insists he wants to go, and is sitting on the bed with two suit bags when Adam steps out of the shower the next evening. "What's in there?" He asks, padding barefoot and naked over to the wardrobe to pick out something to wear. 

"Oh," Davey says. "Didn't I tell you? It's a costume party."

"No. You definitely omitted that particular bit of information from the invite," Adam says, trying not to sound pissed. "I don't have a costume."

"Well I know that." Davey gets up, prowling toward him with a suit bag in hand. "I took care of it. Here." He presses the bag to Adam's chest until he takes it. "Hopefully it's your size."

Adam opens it and stares, looks up at Davey in disbelief. "No."

"Yes. My costume goes with yours. So. You have to." He glances around the empty bedroom and leans in, whispering, "I'm going to be wearing panties under mine."

Adam swallows, all the blood leaving his brain and travelling south. "Oh?"

"Yeah," Davey whispers, standing on his toes to brush his lips to Adam's ear. "The red ones."

"Dave..."

"Sssh. Just put your costume on."

"What? Now? Davey, Jesus..."

And Davey laughs. "That's the spirit."

***

Adam sinks two beers before they leave for Smith's just for a little Dutch courage. Davey minces around shamelessly saying, "Will you hurry the fuck up? We'll be late."

"We're already late."

"No, we're fashionably late," Davey explains, exasperated. "If we wait any longer we'll just be late. And it's your fault. You did not need to jerk off for so long."

"Well you weren't interested in helping me," Adam huffs. He launches his bottle at the recycling can and shuffles moodily toward the door after Davey, the red of his costume making him think of his panties making him try not to get hard all over again. 

Smith opens the front door with a confused look and then a shit-eating grin. "Forgive me, Father, for I have definitely sinned with the thoughts I just had."

"Fuck off," Adam snarls. 

"Don't mind him. He's tetchy because he is celibate." 

"Oh man, Davey the choir boy. You dirty fuckers."

Davey smiles, proud of himself. "It was my idea."

Adam tugs at his dog collar irritably, glancing around the rest of the guests wearing a variety of colourful costumes, not any of them as questionable as his and Davey's. Really, he should be used to that by now. His complaints in the car had fell on deaf ears, eventually earning a "it's just a black shirt and pants and a dog collar, shut up."

Now, he wants nothing more than to make a beeline for the drinks. But Davey grabs his hand and parades him around, revelling in the shocked and amused expressions of the other guests. Adam can't concentrate, all he can think about is what is under Davey's robes, those lace panties and suspenders, hidden for only him. As the night wears on he loses his patience and clears his throat, interrupting Davey's conversation with Jade about which Cure song would be better to bang to and why. 

"You got a second, Dave?"

Davey nods, letting Adam take his hand and drag him out of the room toward the stairs. "What's wrong, babe?"

Adam pulls him up the stairs and into the bathroom, locking the door behind him and pressing Davey against it. "You're a prick, did you know that?"

Davey laughs. “Oh come on, you love it.”

“Exactly,” Adam says, “and I can’t wait for you to get bored and leave.” He leans in, lips going straight to the hickey sucked on Davey’s neck to press a tiny kiss. Pressing himself forward, Adam kisses his way along Davey’s jaw, up to his lips. “I want to fuck you,” he murmurs.

Slack jawed and hard beneath his robes Davey finds it hard to form a sentence, instead opting for reaching between them to unfasten Adam’s trousers. Pushing a hand in he wraps it around Adam’s length, stroking him slowly. “Have I made you hard like that?”

“Uh-huh.” Adam plants a hand flat against the door by the side of Davey’s head, leaning into the touch with a gasp. “God.”

“He’s not here, Father, it’s just us.”

“Davey,” Adam starts, unsure and uncomfortable.

“Please, Father Adam, I can’t lose my choral scholarship. Please, I’ll do anything,” Davey pleads, eyes welling suddenly with tears.

And that is Adam’s undoing. He slaps Davey’s hand away and spins him round, presses his face against the door. “Ssh, it’ll be okay. We’ll work it out.” He pulls up Davey’s robes, punching them around his waist, and tugs his panties down until they fall around his ankles. “Have you let anyone else see you like this?” Adam whispers, grinding against the crack of Davey’s ass.

“No. No, never. It’s a sin.”

“I’ll show you a sin.” Adam sucks three of his fingers, coating them liberally with saliva, and presses one between Davey’s cheeks. He pushes it in slowly, the tightness overwhelming. He crooks his finger and earns himself a choked groan as he brushes Davey’s prostate, does it again just to hear the noises it evokes. He adds another, adds a third, fucking him with them slowly.

Davey rubs himself against the inside of his robes, presses himself against the bathroom door, mewling the entire time. Adam wants to tell him to shut up and get louder in equal measure.

"Please," he begs, "I need it."

"You need it hard, baby?"

Davey moans, "Oh, yes. Yes. Please. Just-"

Adam pulls his fingers out and wipes them on a towel hanging over the side of the tub before rummaging through the cabinet to see if he can find something to use as a suitable lube substitute. Coming up with nothing he wants to put on his dick he sighs. "Dave there's no-"

"Ssh," Davey says, turning around and getting to his knees. He takes Adam's cock in his fist and sucks lightly on the head, taking him deeper in his mouth slowly. When his nose is pressed to Adam's stomach he moans lowly, running his tongue along the underside. 

"Fuck," Adam whispers, threading his fingers in Davey's hair. He pulls him back and holds him in place, fucking his face whilst someone bangs on the bathroom door. "Go away," Adam yells, pulling Davey's hair roughly and guiding him to his feet. "Against the door," he says.

Davey does as he is told, pressing both hands wide on the door, one clutching a fistful of his robes and holding them up. He spreads his legs and arches his back, turning his head to catch Adam's eye. "You're not going to hurt me, are you Father?"

"Not too much," Adam replies, lining himself up and pushing in slowly. He bites his lip as he buries himself deep in Davey's heat. With one hand gripping Davey's hip, the other braces himself on the door. 

Davey shivers, dropping his head between his hands and moaning Adam's name. One hand leaves the door and goes between his legs to touch himself as Adam starts to thrust, slamming him against the door with every move. "God, Adam," he moans, "oh fuck."

"Say it," Adam growls, nipping at the back of Davey's neck.

"Father," Davey utters.

And that's it. Adam thrusts deep one last time, emptying himself shakily, just as Davey comes over the door and his robes with a strangled cry. "Fuck," he breathes, trying to catch his breath. "Fuck, Adam, these were hired."

Adam tries not to laugh, but it's suddenly so fucking funny. "Oh man, you are definitely not getting your deposit back for these."

"Do you think I can Google it?"

"What, how to get jizz stains out of a choir alb?" Adam pulls out slowly, grabbing a handful of Davey's costume to clean up with.

"Hey! Quit that." Davey snatches the material away and tries to smooth it down as he pulls up his panties. "How's my hair?"

"Shag-tastic."

Davey smiles, moving in for a hug before Adam can even fasten his pants. "I like you in a dog collar, you should keep it."

"No, I'm good. I've helped you relive your sick Catholic school upbringing quite enough, thanks." He presses a kiss to Davey's lips and fastens his fly. "Shall we?" He asks, gesturing to the door.

Davey unlocks it and opens it, coming face to face with a line of people who are waiting to use the bathroom and simultaneously eavesdropping. "Not sorry," Davey says, prowling past them with a satisfied air.

They turn to Adam who smirks. "Me either," he says, hurrying to follow Davey back to the party.


End file.
